


All Bite

by PrinceNux



Category: Original Work, gay werewolves - Fandom, werewolves - Fandom
Genre: I am not sorry, M/M, School assignment ftw, Whoop dee doo, this is gay af
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 11:33:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8204747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceNux/pseuds/PrinceNux
Summary: A school assignment that I am actually rather proud of.The assignment was that we had to write up a character with a description, and a setting. We then got a different character and description, and had to go off of that.I got a mobile home park, and a halfling.So, I was like, domestic gay werewolf with his human boyfriend!And, here it is!





	

Letting out a groan that sounds too much like a low growl for his comfort, Gerald stretches and rolls out of bed onto the hardwood floor. 

Landing on all fours, he growl/groans again and gets to his feet.

Taking a moment to let the cold wood bring life back into his limbs and a shock to his brain, Gerald turns to watch his boyfriend, Josh, curl deeper into the mess of blankets to make up for lost warmth.

 

Gerald wants to go lay back down and cuddle up against Josh, he really does. But, there are more pressing things that need to be taken care of right now.

 

Closing the bedroom door behind him, Gerald pads down the short hallway and into the bathroom.

Locking that door, he takes out razor and shaving cream and sets them down on the side of the tub. Then, pulling off his pajama pants, he plugs up the tub and turns on the water before sitting down and staring at his feet as the warm water covers them. 

 

Gerald’s feet are nothing spectacular, except for the fact that right now they are covered in a thick coat of gray fur, and his toenails look more like wolf claws than human nails.

Running a hand down his face, Gerald lathers one foot in shaving cream and gets to work.

 

++++

 

An hour later, his feet are hairless, and the claws have been reduced to toenails with only a cut on his big toe alluding to the fact that something was amiss. 

Scooping the soggy fur out of the drain, Gerald stuffs it down into the trashcan and secures a gauze pad to his toe with medical tape. 

 

Stepping into his pajama pants, wincing when the fabric catches on his toe, Gerald pulls them up and goes back down the hall and into his bedroom. 

Opening the bedroom door slowly as to avoid the old hinges creaking, Gerald turns to press the door shut, and curses quietly when the sounds of Josh sitting up in bed prick at his over-sensitive ears.

Shutting the door all the way, Gerald turns to face his boyfriend, trying to will away the tinge of pink creeping into his cheeks from being caught.

 

Pulling the blankets around him, Josh rubs sleep from his eyes and looks out the window to the still dark of early morning. 

 

“What time is it?” he asks around a yawn. 

“And,” he adds, raising an eyebrow at Gerald, “what are you doing up this early?”

  
  


Shrugging, Gerald makes a show of shuffling back to the bed and flopping down at the bottom.

“It’s probably 5 or 6,” he says, shrugging again.

When Josh raises both eyebrows at him, he continues, “and, ya know. Nature called.”

 

Scrunching up his face in a way that makes Gerald want to cover him in kisses, Josh pats the bed next to him and sighs happily when Gerald wiggles back under the covers.

 

Wrapping both arms around Josh and pulling him close, Gerald buries his face in the crook of the other young man’s neck and whispers, “I thought of you.”

 

Pulling away enough to flick his nose, Josh whisper-yells, “you’re gross!”

 

Nodding in agreement, Gerald kisses Josh’s cheek, replying, “you love it.”

 

++++

Gerald doesn’t remember his parents that well, they died in a car accident when he was just a child.

He was with them, in the backseat, only three years old and playing with a little wolf doll that his mother had given him for his birthday that year. 

 

He remembers how long his mother’s finger and toenails had been when he tumbled down the stairs that morning, how her nails clicked on the wood floor as she prepared breakfast for the three of them. 

When he landed at the bottom, only having missed the last few steps, but still a bit dazed, his mother had run over to him and swooped him up into her arms. 

 

She had held him close, so close that Gerald could see the blood still staining her teeth. 

He wrinkled up his nose at the smell of death lingering on her breath, but something inside of him sparked to life, and he was surprised at the wild and feral hunger that took over him then.

His stomach grumbled loudly, and his mother perked up her ears, a glint in her eyes.

 

Just as quickly as the glint appeared, though, it was gone. Only a fleeting thing.

Smiling down at him, she asked, “are you hungry, my little poppet?”

Gerald nodded enthusiastically, wiggling out of his mother’s arms and climbing up onto a chair.

 

That is as far back as he can remember to that day, he doesn’t even know what they ate for breakfast that morning, the last time that his parents were alive and they were a family.

 

The rest is just a blur of darkness and bright flashing lights and blood. So much blood.

The car was upside down on the side of the road, and Gerald was unconscious, the straps of his car seat the only thing keeping him from crashing down onto the roof of the car. 

 

There was only white then: white walls, white floors, white room. White sheets and hospital bed. Chunky white casts on his arm and leg, and white bandages wrapped around his stomach where a piece of glass from the shattered back window had embedded itself. 

 

He was lucky to be alive. That’s what the doctors told him. But Gerald didn’t care, he only wanted his parents. He wanted his mom and dad and he didn’t want to be alone. 

All he had was the little wolf doll from his mother, with the chewed on ears and bedraggled tail.

 

Years and multiple foster homes later, Gerald still had that little doll, and he was finally able to appreciate the irony of it. His mother, owner of a bakery, with her mismatched socks, and flour in her hair, was a werewolf. Which would probably explain how quickly he had healed from the car accident. Nothing to show for what killed his parents besides a scar stretching the width of his belly, and little scars peppering his hands from glass shards getting buried in them. 

 

And that damn wolf doll. He hated it sometimes. Still does, too.

But, it was there. It was in his jacket pocket when he finally turned 18 and was able to buy his own place, and the fact that “his place” was a mobile home didn’t bother him one bit.

 

The doll was there when he first met Josh. It was there for their first kiss, first date, and it was there the first time that he changed and killed one of the neighbor’s cats. 

 

++++

A few hours later finds Gerald making breakfast in the little mobile home kitchen, making the most of the cramped space, but still occasionally hitting his knees and elbows on cabinet and counter corners.

Gerald rubs his elbow ruefully and wonders just what exactly is funny about hitting it half a dozen times while trying to do something nice for your boyfriend.

Shrugging, he goes back to cracking eggs into the cast-iron skillet for omelets, and glops more pancake batter into the other skillet, hissing when a drop of hot butter lands on his hand.

 

Bringing his hand to his mouth, Gerald laps at the slightly burned skin until the tingling dies down. 

“Calm down, you klutz,” he says to himself, finishing up with the pancakes and filling two only kind of chipped plates with food. 

 

Then, with a plate in each hand, he starts back to the bedroom. 

Upon reaching the door, though, Gerald realizes that he’s forgotten to get forks. And even though Gerald spends a good portion of each month not having hands and ripping into deer carcasses, Ryan doesn’t know about that part of him and with people food, you usually have to use forks, anyway. 

 

As Gerald turns to go back to the kitchen, a sharp pain rips up his spine. 

Letting out a strangled yell, Gerald crumples to the floor, and ends up in a mess of eggs, pancakes, and chunks of glass from both plates.

 

The pain goes through him again, this time like a lightning bolt all over his body, tearing a scream from his mouth this time, as he curls into a tighter ball on the floor. 

 

Josh bursts out of the room then, bare feet dangerously close to the broken glass.

“Gerald!” he cries, dropping down next to his boyfriend, not even reacting to the glass crunching under his pajama clad knees. “What happened? Are you alright?”

 

Feeling Josh’s fingers ghosting over him, not knowing what to do, how to help, he musters all his remaining strength to move away from his boyfriend.

When he moves to come closer, though, Gerald feels tears prick at his eyes as he yells, “just get out of here, Josh! Just leave!”

 

Josh rocks back in surprise, and Gerald takes this opportunity to scramble to his feet using the wall as a support, and moving to the door as quickly as he can, bent over in a half-crouch because of the pain.

 

Taking one last look at his boyfriend, who has started to pick up the mess that was supposed to be their breakfast in bed, Gerald throws the door open and flees into the biting Autumn afternoon. 

 

++++ 

Soon Gerald is running through the forest on all fours, clothes abandoned behind him in the underbrush, the scent of a deer filling his flaring nostrils.

He can already taste the warm blood and flesh tearing under his teeth, running down his muzzle.

Like  _ manna from heaven _ .

 

Finally catching up to the deer, he crouches behind the tall grass, watching a doe walk through the fallen leaves in a clearing. The grass is brown, adding to the  _ crunch _ that the leaves make under her small and dainty cloven hooves.

Her hooves, though, are deceitful. Gerald knows this for a fact, those little feet can break fingers and leave nasty gashes or bruises wherever they manage to land. 

 

When the doe’s scent wafts to him on a slightly warm breeze, Gerald’s temporary wolf brain cries out in hunger, and he jumps out from the grass, dashing out into the clearing and jumping on the doe’s back.

She lets out a sort of shriek that hurts his ears, but doesn’t stop him from sinking sharp claws into her soft, supple hide, parting flesh from bone.

 

The doe bucks, then, causing him to almost fall off, but he just sinks his claws in further and slowly makes his way up her back and to her neck.

Sinking claws into both sides of her neck, eliciting another high-pitched scream, he swings himself around to the front, bringing her to the ground with him, and promptly rips out the doe’s throat.

 

Warm blood cascades down onto his fur, and the meat parts for his fangs like paper.

Before the wolf brain fully takes over, the fleeting thought of Josh back in the mobile home park with all the ruined food and broken glass, flashes across his mind, but is quickly pushed down by primal instinct and blood lust.

 

++++

 

Hours later, the sun is sinking behind the trees, and Gerald is coming back to himself, feeling the bite of Autumn night approaching, and the wolf draining out of him in waves.

Getting up from where he had been sleeping off the primal instinct and tearing apart the doe, Gerald turns around and starts to lope back in the direction of his home. 

 

Just as he is reaching the clearing, and can hear Josh’s voice getting louder, more frantic as he calls his name over and over, there is a sudden  _ snap _ , followed by a pain in his back leg so sharp that he lets out an anguished howl and collapses on the ground.

 

Then, with darkness encroaching on the sides of his vision, Gerald sees Josh rushing towards him.

 

++++

 

Gerald is awoken by a wet cloth being pressed to his forehead, and when he blinks his eyes open, Josh gazes down at him with a watery smile.

“Thought I lost you there,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to his boyfriend’s forehead.

 

Groaning, Gerald stretches, and lets out a yelp when his foot twinges painfully.

Looking down, he groans again at the club that his right foot has become.

Shrugging, Josh says, “at least I got you back before you changed back.”

 

“So, the wolf is out of the bag then,” Gerald sighs.

Laying down next to him on the bed, Josh kisses his cheek.

“It’s okay, Ger, I still love you.”

“I would certainly hope so,” Gerald yawns, cuddling up closer to his boyfriend and closing his eyes. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
